Pain is a part of our world. It breathes in our soul, our heart, our bodies. It surrounds our entire life. We feel some amount of it each day from something. Whether it's small like a papercut or big like a heartbreak, you feel that pain. Pain makes us annoyed, angry, depressed, self-harmful. It awakens a beast that we can't put back to sleep. We fight to stay calm, we fight to hide it all, as if showing we hurt is an unforgivable sin in all eyes. As if feeling pain makes us less somehow. We will hurt our entire lives and yet we aren't allowed to show it. Because we all have to be perfect. Why? Because the world has become twisted and corrupt to the point where pain is weakness. Pain destroys us when it's held in, yet we are supposed to bottle it up, which inevitably causes more pain. Yet we allow that. Because that pain will live there no matter what you do. What's a little more pain?
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My story
Short StoryBasically it's a bunch of deep poems I wrote that go with issues I've faced. It's different than anyone else has done so I decided to try it.
